


Kiddo

by LaserMumu



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anorexia, Anorexic Jack Kline, Anorexic Sam Winchester, Bulimia, Castiel and Dean Winchester and Sam Winchester are Jack Kline's Parents, Castiel is Jack Kline's Parent, Confused Jack Kline, Dean Winchester is Jack Kline's Parent, Eating Disorders, Hurt Jack Kline, Jack Kline Needs A Hug, Pro Ana Groups, Pro Anorexia Groups, Sam Winchester is Jack Kline's Parent, Worried Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:27:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25006150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaserMumu/pseuds/LaserMumu
Summary: “Why don’t you search it up, kiddo?”“Why don’t I search it up?”“It’s just curiosity.”“Please stop this, kiddo.”“Please wake up, kiddo.”Never ever do any of this to your body. You’re beautiful.“Please be okay, kiddo.”
Relationships: Castiel & Jack Kline, Jack Kline & Dean Winchester, Jack Kline & Sam Winchester
Comments: 27
Kudos: 66





	1. “It’s just curiosity.”

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LaserV](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaserV/gifts).



> This is an Anorexic Jack Kline story, so trigger warning.

Jack tossed his fork on the little square for utensils after sliding his plate in the rack. Garlic bread and butter noodles. Yummy! 

His dads were still eating. Well- not Castiel. He just had a glass of water. Jack was a fast eater. They were discussing a case. 

“Do you think anorexia has something to do with it? All of the victims have it.” Sam asked, shoving a mouthful of salad on his mouth. Jack always vocalized his hate for vegetables.

Dean nodded. “Could be the case.”

Castiel just focused on Dean. 

Jack raised an eyebrow and sat back down.

“What’s anorexia?” He asked.

Castiel smiled. “An eating disorder.” He loved when Jack got curious. His eyes got all wide and innocent.

“Eating disorder?” Oh, the innocence in his eyes. Castiel never wanted them to go away. He never wanted Jack to become like his fathers. Sad and fighting for the world. He wanted Jack to keep being soft.

“Why don’t you search it up, kiddo.” Dean placed his glass down. A ring of whiskey pooled at the bottom. 

“Okay!” Jack’s eyes sparkled. 

He hopped up from his seat and grabbed his new laptop from its charger on the table. His fathers would it dare let him hav sit in his room yet. He needed sleep. 

Jack plopped down on his leather office chair, which was a bright red in his colourful room, and pulled his laptop open. The screen lit up and Jack logged in. Technology was beautiful.

Jack carefully pecked at the keys with his fingers.

“A”

“Amazon”

“N”

“Anime” It was a guilty pleasure.

“O” 

“Anonymous messaging app” It was random. It was dangerous to message strangers online. 

“R”

“Anorexia”

Jack sat for a minute. 

Anorexia.

An eating disorder. 

Eating disorder?

Why don’t I look it up?

He clicked the mousepad. 

ANOREXIA

“Lack or loss of appetite for food (as a medical condition).  
an emotional disorder characterized by an obsessive desire to lose weight by refusing to eat.

Jack backspaced and typed in “Eating disorder”.

EATING DISORDER

“Any of a range of psychological disorders characterized by abnormal or disturbed eating habits (such as anorexia nervosa).”

Wow. Jack felt so educated, but he decided to look deeper into anorexia. 

Nothing seemed to be up. Just a strict diet. That was at first glance. It was deadly, Jack soon learned. His dads would be so proud.

Soon he found out about “pro Ana” groups. Jack raised an eyebrow.

Why would people be supporting this disorder? 

Jack found out that they supported each other while reaching their goal weight. Kinda sweet. It was like an emotional support group. Like- friends. Jack never had many of those. Maybe they were accepting.

Jack told himself it was curiosity. He was going undercover. 

Jack pulled out his phone and typed quickly.

“Messaging apps”

He soon found an app called Kik. People made groups there and chatted. Jack downloaded. He would find friends. 

What groups were there? What would he search?

What else to search then,

“Pro Ana”?


	2. Marshmallow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean takes Jack’s electronics for charge. He is walking to heir ok, when he hears a whisper form Jack’s room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like it! It’s pretty late so I’m a little tired.

There were a few groups. They were all run by the user “Queen”. That was strange username. Jack’s username was “Kiddo”. It has meaning. Maybe “Queen” had a meaning, too.

Jack joined and started messaging the group.

“ “Kiddo” joined the group

Welcome to “Pro Ana Group 2”! “

They chatted for a few hours actually. It wasn’t really fun. He had to lie about being anorexic, but being new to it. It hurt to lie. Maybe he didn’t have to. He said that he hadn’t really started yet, but the group was okay with that, because he said that he was going to. The very next day. He sent them his height and weight, and they said that that was a little too much, and that he should work very hard on getting it off. They advised him to start charting his calories and weight. He grabbed his journal and started it. That very day. 

The group didn’t trust that Jack would really do this, so the told him to send pictures of the scale every single day. If he missed one, they would kick him out of the group. 

Jack didn’t know how to photoshop. I mean he was a nephilim. Maybe it wouldn’t take the same effect on him. 

The group was not a good one.

On his first day, they told Jack that he was fat, disgusting, and that tonight, he should take a good look in the mirror. 

The hadn’t seen an inch of him, but it still hurt. They were fourteen people saying those things. 

It was 10:30 PM.

Dean knocked on the door and entered Jack’s room.

“Hey, Kiddo. It’s time to go to bed, I’ll take your laptop and put it on charge.” Dean reached his hand out. Jack face it to him. It’s not like anybody looked through Jack’s laptop. He was innocent, and kind. Dean tucked the laptop under his arm and held his other hand out.

“Phone, too, kid.” 

Jack smiled and handed Dean his phone. 

Dean turned around and left.

Jack got up and stripped to his boxers. Well, his socks were still on. Jack turned and entered his private bathroom. He watched as his chest went up, and down as he breathed. 

“Fat.” Jack whispered to himself. “Disgusting.” 

Tears beat at Jack’s eyes. He clenched his fists and raised them. He stopped.

No.

He shouldn’t break the mirror.

He should just get - skinnier.

Jack pulled his clothes back on.

After putting Jack’s electronics on charge, he went to his bedroom. He had to pass Jack’s room. Jack cracked the door open.

“Dean?” He peeped. Dean stopped to look at Jack.

“Jack? You’re supposed to be asleep.” Dean whispered.

“I know, I just - wanna talk.” 

Dean walked into Jack’s room and closed the door behind him. The two sat in the bed. 

Dean placed a hand on Jack’s thigh. “So, what’s up?”

“I-I-“

“Hold that thought, Jack.” Dean squinted. He placed a hand on Jack’s cheek. “Why are you crying, Dear?” He asked.

Jack couldn’t help it. He began sobbing uncontrollably.

“Shh!” Dean pulled Jack close. “It’s okay. Let it all out. Then we can talk.”

Jack pulled away after a few moments, though he was still sobbing. 

“I-It’s just that you, Sam, and Cas look so perfect, especially you, but I- I’m just a marshmallow. A fat, disgusting-“ 

“Stop.” Dean was firm, but he was crying. “Okay? Stop it.”

Dean looked back up. His and Jack’s teary eyes met. “You are so beautiful. You’re not fat, you’re not disgusting. You’re not a marshmallow. You’re a miracle. You’ll save the world. You mean so much to Sam, Cas, and me.” Dean began. “So don’t you ever say that again. You hear me?” He asked.

Jack nodded. “Mm hmm.”

Dean pulled Jack back in for a hug.

“Dean?” Jack peeped.

“Yeah, kid?” Dean asked.

“C-Could I start a diet?” Jack whispered. “Not like Anorexia, so harmless one.”

“‘Course.” Dean replied.

“Oh, and Dean?” Jack spoke again.

“Hmm?”

“You are squishing me.” Jack replied.

“Oh.” Dean laughed, letting go. “Sorry, kid.”

“S’okay.” Jack smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can leave feedback and stuff, but no hate please!


	3. Pig

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You’re a fucking pig.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s short but it’s a chapter! :) I feel so back for Jack.

Jack watched as Sam walked up the steps. 

“Can I come?” He asked. Sam was going on a run.

“Sure! You sure you can handle it though, bud?” Sam chuckled.

Jack scrunched up his forehead muscles. “Yeah! I believe in myself.”

Sam smiled. “Get your shows on then.”

Jack grinned as he practically sprinted to his sneakers.

.<>.

Jack was sweating like a pig, or as he thought, “the pig you are”.

“You wanna turn back?” Sam asked.

Jack shook his head. “No it’s okay. I got this.” He panted.

Sam looked at Jack questionably. “You sure? Cause we can turn back. You look pretty worn out.”

“No! No! We can keep going!” Jack argued.

“Alright, but you gotta promise yo take a shower when we get back.” Sam laughed.

Jack scrunched his eyebrows together but relaxed them as he spoke. “Promise.”

“Okay, then. Let’s go!”

Jack’s legs shook as he ran. His underarms were damp, and he stank. He was a pig after all. “Might as well smell like one too,” he thought to himself. 

.<>.

The hot water itched Jack’s back. He pumped the mix of shampoo and condition he had in his hand. He leather his hair up nice and foamy and backed up into he water. Jack squeezed his eyes shut as the foam from his hair dropped down his back and down into the drain. 

“Jack!” Castiel’s gruff voice strained to overpower the shower.

“We gotta go to Jodi’s tonight so look nice!” He yelled.

“Got it!” Jack yelled back.

Jack was now out of the shower and in some loose jeans, a white t-shirt, and a light brown jacket. The bristles scratched his scalp. Damn, that felt nice. 

His phone dinged. Kik. 

Jack sighed as he stared at the messages. He sadly walked into his bathroom and stood on the scale. 

137 pounds. Jack sighed in disappointment. He had worked so hard.

He snapped a photo of the number and clicked send.

“Pig”

“Marshmallow”

“How do you handle walking?”

Jack felt himself begin to tear up. Was this what friends were like? His fathers didn’t have friends like this. He really was different.

Jack sighed and walked back to the mirror in his bedroom. 

“Fucking pig.” He grumbled as he gripped his stomach. He pressed down and felt himself began to cry.

Squishy.


	4. A Chubby Lil’ Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack stepped onto the scale

The road was wet and the windows were drying. It was dark and Jack’s eyes felt droopy. The sound of the engine and the last few raindrops from the small storm. Jack’s muscles relaxed and he leaned against the car window. Castiel sat kn the other side of the back and Sam was riding shotgun. Sam and Castiel sat there quietly while Dean focused on the road. They weren’t too far from Jodi’s.

Jack got a sudden feeling and sat up after having almost fallen asleep. The headlights revealed Jodi’s garage door and a little bit of a brick walkway. Jack stepped out of Baby. He stretched a little and let out a small yawn. 

“Come on, Kiddo.” Dean lightly grabbed Jack’s hand. Jack felt his heartbeat quicken, but Dean soon let go, so it was okay. The door was unlocked for them. Claire greeted them a few moments after they entered the house. She raised an eyebrow at a sleepy Jack.

It was 10 PM and Jack was already tired. 

“Hi, Claire.” Jack smiled shyly. Also strange. Jack loved hanging with Claire and wasn’t shy anymore.

It was so loud. So much talking and buzzing around. It was all too much for Jack. He went and sat down on a couch in the living room. His head rested to the side a little, but fell back. Claire walked over and sat next to Jack.

“Hey, Jack.” She breathed as she sat.

“Sup, Claire.” Jack replied.

“Are you... okay? You look really tired and you’re acting really shy. Is os thing up?” Claire asked.

“No, I’m fine.” Jack responded, smiling to further prove his point.

Claire frowned slightly. “Are you sure?-“

“Yeah, I just- wanna be left alone right now.” He was quiet, and breathy. 

Claire nodded. “Yeah.”

Her heart hurt a little, but she left.

.<>.

Jodi grabbed a bowl out of the cabinet.

“How much you want, Jack?”

Jack stared at the squishy, wet, cheesy pot of Mac n cheese and almost threw up. He didn’t wanna be even heavier. 

Jack shook his head. “I don’t want any.”

Jack raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

Jack smiled awkwardly.

“But don’t you love Mac n cheese?” Jodi asked.

“I’m just not hungry.” Jack replied.

“Well, okay. Tell me if you get hungry, Kay?” Jodi wasn’t)t upset, just confused and skeptical. 

“Yeah, will do.” Jack smiled. Then Jodi moved on. Jack went back to the couch. 

Jodi frowned. 

“What’s wrong, Jodi?” Sam asked.

“I’m just kinda worried about Jack. He says he’s not hungry.” Jodi explained.

Sam smiled. “I’m sure it’s nothing. Appetites change.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Jodi replied, though she wasn’t very reassured. 

.<>.

Jack face planted into his bed and yawned. Jack smacked his lips and he stood up. He changed into more suitable sleeping clothes, but not without staring into the mirror, disgusted. 

Jack still had his phone, so he headed to the bathroom. He stepped on the scale. He swore it almost broke.

132 pounds. He had done bad that day. He had eaten a bit. It was an exception, but it was still bad. Jack pressed down on his belly. Squishy.

Jack braced himself for the harsh words, but they still got to him. He was a puffy little cinnamon bun. Jack began to sob. He was ugly. He was a chubby lil thing.

Jack walked back into his room and sat on his bed. He waited for Dean, who never showed. Oh well. Jack’s battery was very high still and maybe he could show his dads that it wasn’t a distraction. 

“Thanks. Now go to sleep.” Dean commanded. Jack nodded.  
Jack laid down in his bed, shivering. The blankets weren’t doing shit. 

Jack shut his eyes and tried to go to sleep. He could hear the rain above him. Jack sighed and relaxed his lids.

.<>.

Jack tiredly opened his eyes. It didn’t feel like morning. Jack looked at his phone quickly. It was 2 in the morning. Jack’s eyes lowered to the notifications. Kik. 

Jack opened up the app. They were no longer in a discussion. Jack scrolled through the messages and began to tear up.

They were all about him.


	5. Nutella

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack melted into his bed. He felt like a melting jar of Nutella, just sinking into his mattress, full of chocolate, sugar and fat. He just wanted to throw up this feeling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I literally CRIED writing this. I love my baby boy 🥺

Jack shut his phone off. He covered himself with his blanket and sunk his head into his pillows. Jack squeezed his eyes shut as hot tears poured out of his eyes. Usually crying made you feel better, but It didn’t work for Jack. Maybe it was because Jack was the same squishy, oozing with fat, good for nothing, puffy, big, disgusting, marshmallow.

Jack melted into his bed. He felt like a melting jar of Nutella, just sinking into his mattress, full of chocolate, sugar and fat. He just wanted to throw up this feeling. 

Jack pulled a cardboard box out form under his bed. He grabbed a jar of Nutella, then a plastic spoon. Jack sat up, he felt his legs ache as he sat up. All the weight probably put stress on his legs. No wonder it hurt to move. 

Jack screwed off the cap and tossed it onto the floor. He began to sob again. Jack turned his hand over and stabbed the golden cover on the jar with the stem of his spoon. He messily unpeeled the top, sobbing. The smell was sickening. Jack stuck his spoon into the Nutella. He pulled the spoon out, fearing it would snap from the weight of the spread. Maybe his legs would snap one day. 

Nutella was a spread, and here this pig was, gobbling it up with a spoon. Jack’s hands shook and the jar slipped out of his hands. None was on his legs or bed, but a lot had spilled onto his hand and arm. Jack stuck the spoon into the jar to hold it and frantically began licking the chocolate off of his arm. 

Jack’s breathing was heavy. Probably his lungs being barely able to breathe under all this fat. Jack sobbed harder, his mouth dry. His mother would be so disgusted with him. His fathers, too. Probably are. They probably look at him and wonder how he breathes being that fat. 

Jack scraped the bottom of the Nutella jar, still sobbing. His mouth was dry. Jack grabbed a bottle of coke from the box and unscrewed the cap. He poured the fizzy liquid down his throat. He tossed the empty bottle to the side. He grabbed a bag of Cheetos and poured it down his throat.

.<>.

Jack collapsed in his bed, surrounded by empty chip bags, jars, soda cans, and cookie boxes. Jack grabbed his stomach. Ew. Jack got up and ran to the bathroom. It felt like the floor was made up of a bunch of knives. Jack felt as it the bunker shook with every store that he took. Jack fell to his knees, a fuzzy carpet beneath him. Jack looked down at the toilet and took a deep breath. He slowly pressed his middle and index finger down his throat. Jack gagged and pulled out. 

Jack slowly breathed. In, and out. He placed his finger back in his mouth and pushed back. Jack grabbed, but kept going this time. It was only a few moments before he threw up all over his hand and into the toilet bowl. Jack stood up from his knees and walked over to the sink. He felt a little better. 

Jack rinsed the puke off of his fingers. Jack climbed back onto his bed, chip bags crunching beneath him. Jack tossed all the trash back into the box and fell back against his bed. Jack weakly pushed the box back under his bed. Jack felt as if his was sinking into his bed. It probably couldn’t take all the weight.

.<>.

Jack stood in front of the mirror, confused, and kinda scared. It was noon, and he had just threw up his “lunch”, which was just a few crackers. Luckily, Sam and dean were out on a hunt, and Castiel didn’t question appetites, as he doesn’t really understand them. 

Jack grabbed his phone and messaged his “friends”. 

“Am I supposed to see my bones?”


	6. Instincts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean has some worries.

“Ha! We’ve been seeing bones for a while now. You’re just the heaviest out of the group. A chubby little baby.”

Jack squeezed his phone. They were right. He was a baby won’t chubby lil cheeks. Jack walked into his room and grabbed his notebook. It was pretty, unlike him, but just like the members of his group.

Jack wrote down his calorie count. 81 calories at lunch. He had a limit of 150 right now. It was a little bit duration, but no pain no gain, right. Right?

.<>.

Sam and Dean were back. They had a good hunt, and wanted to have dinner. Jack was eating a salad, with just 22 calories in it. It was strange, Dean knew that, but Sam and Castiel didn’t seem to take much notice. Maybe it was that night, when Jack was crying about his weight. He would never take it that far. It was probably just the research. He knew it was unhealthy, and it would upset his dads. Plus, he loved food, he could never give it up. He was eating fine in front of him right now. 

Jack got up and rinsed his plate off. Dean hurried up and finished his food too. He had this worry in his stomach, and just wanted to calm it. He would see that Jack was a-okay, and he was just overthinking. Then he could have some pie. 

.<>.

Jack washed off his hands. He switched off the lights and opened the door. Jack froze.

“D-Dean!” He stuttered. “Sorry, you scared me.” He smiled. “What are you doing here?” Dean was silent. Jack attempted to push by his father. Dean grabbed Jack’s side. His eyes widened . Me let go of Jack was almost screamed. Jack fell to the floor.

“I’m sorry, Jack.” Dean lifted Jack up. “Just sit down.” Dean shut the bathroom door. Jack obeyed. Dean sat down next Jack. He swallowed hard. 

“Jack... I can feel your ribs.” Dean glanced down at Jack’s stomach, scared at what it could look like.

“I-I just haven’t been hungry in a while.” Jack lied.

“A while?” Dean asked, almost shouting. He stood up “I’ve seen you sneaking around, hiding when it’s time to eat, hurrying to your room after every meal, why the fuck would you do this?” Dean’s voice almost cracked. He felt himself begin to tear up. Jack looked away. Dean grabbed Jack’s chin and forced it up. “Look at me. You know it’s wrong, now tell me why in the hell you would pull something like this.”

It sounded like he hated Jack. Like in the beginning, but he was just scared. Sam had been anorexic for some time, and his dad was so scary when he found out. The house had felt like it was shaking he was yelling so much. 

“Dean-“ Jack spoke.

“I’m not done yet.” Dean cut him off. “Do you know how sad we were when you’re system failed? When your eyes were burnt out! We were __devastated .Sam was broken.”

Sam. Jack never wanted to hurt Sam. Ever.

“All we wanted was to hold you. I wouldn’t want to hold you and only feel skin and- skin and-“ Dean began to sob. He fell to the bed. “Skin and bones.” Dean croaked weakly. 

Jack phone dinged. Jack looked towards it and tried to take it, but Dean grabbed it, having a bad feeling about it. His first one was right, this one could be too. 

It was right.


	7. Not A Good Idea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean takes no shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not updating much! Love you!

Dean stared at the notification for a second. He entered Jack’s passcode, as Jack had to tell all three of his dads the password to his phone. Dean scrolled on Jack’s phone.

“Jack-“ He started. “These messages- they’re disgusting.” Dean looked away from Jack’s phone and at Jack. “How long have you had this app?”

“I-I dunno, few months maybe.” Jack answered. He felt like a baby. He just wanted to hide away. He wanted to be normal. To be skinny.

Dean put the phone down after few more moments. “Where’s your chart?”

Jack raised an eyebrow.

“The journal you use to chart your calories and weight.” Dean was not very friendly.

“On the shelf over there.” Jack pointed. Dean walked to the shelf and grabbed it. H turned to face jack and opened the book. He flipped through the pages. There were so many.

Dean stopped. He snapped the journal in half and let the two pieces fall to the floor. “You can keep the snacks in here.”

Dean walked to the bathroom. “No more scale either.” Dean grabbed it and tucked it under his arm.

“How did you know about the snacks, and the chart?” Jack asked.

“Sam was anorexic for two years. When he was fourteen and fifteen. He was bulimic, too.” Dean explained. So he knew how it felt. 

Dean sat down and placed a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Please stop this, kiddo.” Jack’s heart warmed up. He loved it when Dean called him that, and Dean knew that, too. He knew it comforted him. “I love you so much, okay? Just gotta stop this behavior. Whenever you need to, come talk to me about weight and all that. I’ll listen.” Jack nodded and Dean placed a kiss on his forehead.

“Please don’t tell anyone...” Jack begged. “I don’t want them to blow it up.”

“‘Course.” Dean smiled, then got up,

“Maybe have a snack, or go to sleep.” Dean suggested. “I’ll be back for your phone in a lil bit.” Dean then left the room. Jack smiled and grabbed his phone. He frantically swiped back and forth. Kik was nowhere to be seen.

Dean had deleted it.

Jack was kind of relieved, but that feeling soon faded as he got a notification.

Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to give them his twitter.


	8. Ice Cream After Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He jut can”t get them out of his head. The faces, the messages, and most of all, his body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not updating! Hope you guys enjoy this, all comments are appreciated. ❤️ 
> 
> Mumu

Jack sat in his bedroom. He sat with his legs folded in the center of his bed. It felt so small. He felt so big. Like his bed’s legs were shaking, helplessly trying to hold itself together. Jack stood up quickly and mocked to the floor next to his bed. His back relaxed against the side of his mattress. 

Jack gasped for air, his mouth was dry and sticky. He choked on his sobs. His Twitter DMs lay open on his phone.

Pig.

You’re not worth shit.

Faggot.

Squishy.

Whale.

Does your floor have cracks in it?

Jack sighed. He wiped his wet cheeks with his hands. He reached his arm under his bed and slid the cardboard box out. 

..............................................................

Jack sighed. Empty chip bags, soda cans, and other snack containers littered his floor. Jack weakly crawled to the bathroom. He kneeled before the toilet. Jack took a deep breath and placed two fingers in his mouth. He pushed his fingers down his throat. Jack gagged, his throat closing in around his fingers. He gagged. He felt his hot vomit coming up. It all spilled out onto his hand and into the toilet bowl. Jack shook his hand. He wouldn’t get used to the mess would he? Jack’s knees ached. He shifted positions so that his legs lay to his right in hopes of relieving the pain. Well, shit. Now his shins hurt. Jack shifted back to his usual kneel. He sighed. His head ached. He wiped his dirty hand onto the towel hung up next to him. He laid his head down on his overlapped arms and closed his eyes. 

Jack opened his eyes. He heard the same clamor he did every morning. He assigned each of the voices to each of his dads. Shit his legs. Mostly his shins and knees. Jack stood up. His legs shook. Jack steadied himself on the counter. He flushed the toilet. Luckily it all went down. Jack looked down at his legs. His delicate skin was littered with bruises. They were all over his shins and bony knees. How the hell didn’t he wake up from the pain?

Jack walked out the door. He changed from his shorts to slightly loose jeans. He kept the same white T-shirt, there was no mess on it so why bother. He did however, pull a jacket on. Jack walked out of his room and to the kitchen. His vision was still a little blurry from waking up and he was still a lil sleepy, but that would fade soon. Jack was not looking forward to facing Dean, or any of his dads. Speaking took to much effort. 

Jack snuck to his phone and unplugged it. Shit. The ding. Jack froze. He looked around. His dads kept taking. None of them moved. Jack took his phone and snuck back to his room. Mission accomplished. Jack opened Twitter. There were new messages. He scrolled through them. He read every one. Every terrible word. 

..............................................................

Jack red the terrible words over and over again. The red letters mocked him. They were scrawny, unlike him. Jack put his small knife in his drawer and shut it. He scratched at his arms. 

“Jack!” Castiel called. He opened the door. “Jack.”

“Hey, Cas. What’s up?” Jack asked, thanking the lord he put his knife away. 

“It’s time for dinner.” Castiel replied. 

Jack smiled awkwardly. “I’ll be down in a minute.” Castiel nodded and left the doorway. Jack sat in his bed, kind of frozen. 

The door suddenly flew open and was then slammed shut. Jack looked up, panicked. It was just Dean. 

“Why the fuck are you just sitting here?” He yelled.

“I-I lost track of time, Dean I’m-“

“I don’t want to hear this bullshit. Cas told you to get your ass to the kitchen and you didn’t listen. I don’t give a damn about this whole anorexic phase you’re having. You need to get your shit together.” Dean sternly scolded.

“Dean, please don’t be like this.” Jack frowned.

“Stop it. Do you want attention? Is that what it is? You’re feeling ignored?” He asked.

Jack shook his head.

“Then get off your ass and go eat dinner!” Dean hollered.

Jack just sat there, frozen.

“Now!”

Jack nodded as he stood up. He quietly walked to the dinner table. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t come down earlier.” He apologized as he sat down.

“It’s fine, no one’s mad.” Same smiled softly. Jack smiled in response. He stared down at his bowl. Jack hesitantly picked up his spoon, the sizzling soup held in it. He anxiously slurped the soup out of his spoon. Minutes of him eating passed. Finally, Jack finished. He got up and washed his dishes. His dads gave him an anxious look as he grabbed a box of crackers from the cabinet. He munched down every single crumb out for that box and reached for a box of ice cream bars. He took the box to his room.

Jack sat down on his slightly messy bed. The chocolate covering the ice cream bar cracked as Jack bit down on the bar. He sucked on the ice cream and sticks. His breathing was heavy as he downed the bars. Jack eventually left his room to toss the box out. He came out with all the residue sucked off the sticks of the ice cream bars. Jack tossed the boxes in the trash can and rushed to his room. He locked his door behind him and rushed to his bathroom. Jack stood in front of the mirror. He grabbed his clothed stomach before turning to the toilet. 

Jack knelt down and took a deep breath. His mouth was wet and the back of his teeth were soon runner with vomit. Puke collected at the corners of Jack’s mouth as his blue fingertips pushed further down his moist throat. 

.<>.

Jack stared down at the toilet bowl, which was filled with vomit. Jack stood up, his knees weak from resting on the fuzzy carpet for so long. Jack walked over to the mirror, lifting up his shirt. He traced his bones with his slim, bones finger. Jack let his shirt drop. He leaned in towards to the mirror, lightly tugging at his bottom lip. He traced his most prominent features. Jack cupped his face, lightly pushing his cheeks in, playing with his flesh. Jack’s lips lightly pursed from his fingers. Jack pulled his lower lids down, staring at all the pink. Jack squished his flesh and frowned. His father’s judgmental faces when he was eating all thst ice cream after dinner...

He couldn’t stop thinking about them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys liked it!

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to leave feedback or really anything that’s not hate!


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